Rough Hands and Soap Suds
by Sandpuppeteer
Summary: An attempt at a real fan fic. Inspired by the events of chapter 229 of the manga. Slight spoilers. Naruto has a revilation while showering. Clean. Might edit or add to later.


He stormed away from the field. He didn't want to play with them, anyway. Especially if they were going to look at him like _that_. All in a huff, he dropped down at the crest of that hill he liked so much. No one bothered him there. No one called him names. No one looked at him like he'd give them some weird disease.

He tried to hold onto that anger, imagining all of those kids were stranded in the middle of the lake before him. With out a boat or life jackets or anything. Flailing, crying for help. But the image faded from his mind, and with it the intense anger. An dull emptiness replaced the burning rage. A feeling of loneliness no child should feel. But he didn't know that. It was becoming a normal state of being for him.

The waters of the lake reflected the orange hues of the disappearing sun, the surface rippled by the chilly breeze. Maybe he'd just stay the night out there, see if anyone noticed if he froze to death.

As he debated whether or not he should stay there on the damp grass, someone walked out onto the small pier. The figure stood out in all it's darkness against the pink and orange water. Just a boy, he realized, no older than himself. This new, dark haired kid stood at the edge of the pier, not moving. The water darkened, shifting into the purples.

Only then, when darkness had started to set in, did the other boy move. Lifting his hands to chest level for a few moments, then to his lips.

_SHOOM!_

The heat from the giant fireball could be felt way up on the hill, briefly removing the night's chill. Even before the flames vanished, the dark haired boy pocketed his hands and made his way up the pier. He lifted his eyes for just a moment, picking out the boy on the hill in an instant.

He could feel the dark haired boy's eyes drilling into him. But, for just a flicker in the remaining light, he looked less surly. A slight warmth in his icy stare. The boy on the hill returned the expression with out thinking.

Just for that brief moment, the void wasn't so big.

--------

"Just get in the damn shower!" Sasuke said, sterly. He blocked Naruto's only escape from the bathroom.

"But I'm hungry! Can't I have just one bowl of ramen first?" Naruto whined. He stood in the small bathroom of his teacher's home, stripped to his boxers.

"You had _three_ already. Kakashi fed you on the way back into the village. And you haven't bathed in a week."

"We were on a mission! And I did so bathe! In the river, when we were fishing!" He tried to take advantage of what he thought to be a distracted Sasuke, and slip out of the bathroom.

That only resulted in him being shoved back. He stumbled, his heels striking the tub's side, throwing him off balance. He didn't have a chance to get up before the sting of ice water hit his exposed flesh. He sputtered and protested as two loud thumps sounded on the tub's bottom. A blue bar of soap and a generic bottle of shampoo.

"Use them. Idiot." Sasuke said, shutting the door.

"When I'm Hokage, I'll make _you_ take a bath!" Naruto retorted at the top of his lungs, to the closed door.

When no answer came, he gave up. Turning the water to a more desirable temperature, he shed his remaining clothing. He fully intended to bathe on his own. He didn't need Sasuke shoving him around and telling him what to do.

As he rinsed the sudsy shampoo from his hair, he surprised himself with the path his thoughts took. Why would he think of that evening on the hill at such a time? That night was the warmest he'd ever seen his team mate. Now his gaze was colder than the water had been.

Remember that night called back the void. He'd thought the emptiness had dulled, but not it cut into him, sharp and deep. The hands that rubbed soap over his shoulders suddenly felt too rough, calloused and uncaring.

He moved them in front of his face, letting the warm water run over them to push away the suds. He could no longer recall from where each scar had come. Except for one. A huge, self-inflicted mark on the back of his left hand. A wound he'd made as a vow. A wound he'd made at the start of his first dangerous mission.

What he did that day, on the bridge, surrounded by those mirrors. He'd remembered the night on the hill then, too. He'd fought to protect one of the first people to not look at him with immediate malice. And still, the dark haired boy only looked upon him with cold uninterest. Where had the flicker of warmth gone?

His cheeks burned hot as that fireball. His tears mixed in with the shower steam, undetected. Slumping to the tub's floor, he draws his knees to his chest, letting the shower spray his back. As sobs ran through his body, he only vaguely understood what went through his head. Little more than the day he'd fought for the other boy's life.

When his team mate looked at him with those cold eyes, it was different than the other kids of the village. Not as intense, but cutting far deeper. Even as he told himself that he hated the dark haired boy's very existence, he knew it was a lie. As often as he wished the other's demise, he knew he'd fight to protect the boy's life.

It was there, naked and sobbing that he admitted it to himself. He'd known it since the day they faced the Mist Nin together. Sasuke was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever known.

-----

When Naruto finished dressing after his shower, he walked out into the kitchen, hair still dripping on the back of his neck. Sitting on the counter was a steaming bowl of freshly prepared ramen. He glanced around, thinking it might be some sort of trick.

"Just eat it." Came Sasuke's stern voice from a chair in the living room. "Then get to bed. We're leaving early in the morning."

Naruto was glad his team mate's back was to him, as a light smile touched his lips.


End file.
